Evidence of Things Not Seen
by theelectriceel
Summary: Post Ep One Shot.


Donna smiled gently at him before broaching a serious topic. "Can I say something? Can I call Stanley Keyworth and tell him maybe you're going to be calling him later?"

"I'm fine," Josh assured her outside the Roosevelt Room. "I was in here. I didn't even see it." And while he didn't see it, he wasn't exactly fine either. The First Noel was playing louder and louder inside his head. But Josh did his best to block it out- he was in the middle of something.

"All right. I'm not going anywhere," Donna assured him. She wasn't so convinced by his statement.

He returned to his interview with Joe, attempting to tamp down the music. The part of his brain, however, that he normally used to keep everything in a delicate balance was occupied with something else that particular night. It was obsessing over the threat that Donna had received that morning.

I'm collecting all the guns you've banned, and there's a bullet with your name on it in each one.

He hadn't actually told Donna about the letter, hand delivering it to Ron Butterfield instead. The Secret Service told him it wasn't a credible threat. They'd assured him that if anything changed and Donna's safety became jeopardized he'd be the first to know. But that didn't put many of Josh's fears at bay. There was, after all, no credible threat against Josh himself that night at Rosslyn. And the thought of someone coming after Donna made his mouth go physically dry.

He shook his head, turning his attention back to Joe.

OooooooooO

Once the lockdown was lifted Josh slowly made his way back to his office only to find Donna curled up in his chair.

"What are you still doing here," he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"You're here, I'm here," she answered simply, not bothering to get out of his chair as he rounded the corner towards her, leaning back on his desk.

He smiled at her, something about her sheer presence reaching him deep inside. "Go home, Donnatella. It's late. I'm right behind you." He reached into his wallet and threw some cash on the desk. "And take a cab. I don't want you on the metro at this time of day," he added, the threat letter still fresh in his mind.

She rolled her eyes at him a bit and stood, yanking the cash from where it sat. "It's far more likely that I take the metro tonight and then use this to let you pay for my nail appointment tomorrow," she batted her eyelashes over dramatically and teased him, waiving the bills in the air a bit before shoving them into her pocket.

He laughed, falling into their banter but knowing full well she'd take the cab simply because he'd asked her to do so. "Closest you're going to come to a raise, so go ahead and live it up," he smirked.

He trailed behind her and leaned in his doorway as she pulled on her jacket and gathered her bag at her desk. She approached him again before she left, eyeing him carefully. "You're sure you're okay? I can get Stanley on the phone..." she trailed off.

"I'm fine, Donna," he told her, even though he was feeling less and less so all the time.

She wasn't sure if she believed him, but he'd had a handle on it lately, so she didn't push. "Call me if you need anything, okay?" She gave his bicep a gentle squeeze.

He nodded his head in agreement and she left, the brass quintet playing louder with every step away from him that she took.

He eventually returned to his desk chair, flopping back into it, not ready to retreat to his apartment just yet. He was growing increasingly panicked and Josh knew he needed something to take his mind off of the rising adrenaline. He just didn't know what that would be.

"Hey, J," he heard from the doorway. "Late night?"

Josh's eyes shot up at the sound of her voice. He'd try just about anything to silence the panic at this point.

"Amy. What a surprise," he spun around in his chair, to face her. She was grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat.

OoooooooooO

Amy rarely stayed at Josh's. She usually got dressed and made her way back to her own home in the middle of the night. She knew what Josh was to her- and what she was to Josh. They were DC power daters and she had no issues with that. Besides, it's not like they curled up and talked to each other after sex. That's not the type of girl she'd ever be. This particular night, however, Amy had nodded off next to him, a pillow thrown haphazardly between them in the middle of the bed didn't bother either of them as they shared what could easily be interpreted as a platonic sleeping arrangement by an outsider.

At some point in the early hours she felt more than she heard Josh sit bolt upright in bed, letting out a yelp and gasping for air as he grabbed his chest.

He'd just awoken from a particularly vivid nightmare, something that Amy had never before experienced. At least, not at this level.

Startled, she rolled over and stared at him, unsure of what was going on. "What the hell, Josh," she asked him.

He didn't move or acknowledge her, still trying unsuccessfully to catch his breath. Every time I thought he could inhale deeply Donna's letter came into his mind. Someone wanted to hurt Donna. Someone wanted to make his Donna go through this.

Amy sat up next to him and furrowed her brow when he continued not to respond. "J?"

He didn't hear her. His mind was a flurry of activity and chaos- a war zone. But some part of his reasoning ability peeked out for just a brief moment. Flat surface, it told him. And he moved to the end of the bed, all but wilting onto the floor to press his back against a flat surface. But it didn't do much. He was close to hyperventilating.

Amy moved to get out of the sheets, throughly freaked out and completely unsure of what was happening. "Are you okay?" Amy reached out and grabbed his shoulder, causing Josh to flinch wildly at her touch. "Josh, are you having a heart attack?" She'd never paid too much attention to his medical history, but she knew there were some lingering effects from the shooting. "Should I call 911?"

"Donna," he barely croaked out.

Amy muttered something I distinguishable under her breath, thought Josh was long past the point of hearing her anyway. There was no way Amy was going to call Donna, she decided. She was annoyed at the mere mention of the blonde's name. Donna had always been one of the unspoken wedges in Amy and Josh's relationship and Amy was just fine with not giving acknowledgement to just what the two meant to each other. She could take care of Josh just fine.

But Josh wasn't coming around. He was just looking worse and worse, not even acknowledging Amy's existence. And he seemed to be a little green.

"Donna," he almost whispered.

She stared at him for a moment before grabbing a trash can and sitting it next to him, at precisely the last possible moment, as Josh lost his dinner. He sat back against the bed again, now completely shut out. His eyes weren't even focused on anything.

Amy sighed. She wasn't going to be the one who dealt with this all night. She walked to Josh's nightstand and flipped his cellphone open, rolling her eyes as she clicked send on speed dial 1.

OoooooooooO

Donna was in her car in a flash, not even really aware that she was in pajama shorts and a tank top, pulling on the first pair of shoes she saw and grabbing her keys. All Amy had said was that something was 'wrong' with Josh and she was already on the move. She'd already been in her car when she'd determined what the problem was.

Donna's temper flared a bit at the sound of Amy's annoyance. It was as though she was disgusted at the thought of helping him through this. But Donna was grateful that Amy had actually called. That, admittedly, couldn't have been easy.

"Put me on speaker," Donna requested as she looked quickly for oncoming traffic before blowing through her second red light of the evening.

Amy complied and Donna steadied her voice. "Josh? Can you hear me? I'm on the way, okay? You're okay. You're safe. You're at home. Amy's with you. Just breathe. In... and out..."

"He's just sitting there," Amy said into the phone, staring at Josh.

"I'm almost there," she said softly, unsure at this point if those words would be more of a comfort to Amy or Josh.

Donna grabbed the first parking spot she saw and ran down the sidewalk and up the stairs to Josh's apartment. She was fumbling with the key when Amy threw the door open.

"Bedroom," Amy told Donna, her voice laced with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

Donna tossed her purse and keys haphazardly down in the entry as she took off for him, worried about what she'd find. Right outside his bedroom door she stopped and took a deep breath. She had to be completely calm for him.

He sat on the floor, his back against the bed, wide eyed and drenched in a cold sweat. Although his eyes were open, they weren't focused on anything in the room. Donna could tell he was somewhere far away as he stared intently at nothing. She approached him slowly, not wanting to startle him, eventually stopping only about a foot away from him. Slowly, she kneeled down to face him.

"Josh," she said, barely louder than a whisper, lowering herself a bit more to try and enter his field of vision. "You're okay. I'm right here with you and I'm not going anywhere." Donna reached for his hand, holding it softly. "You're safe," she repeated.

Her touch triggered something inside of him, though it was quite the opposite reaction to his earlier interaction with Amy. Rather than flinching or pulling away, Josh did just the opposite. He grabbed onto her and held her like he would never let go.

From where she stood just outside the doorway, Amy still couldn't get a handle on what she was witnessing. Josh Lyman was falling apart. It was quite alarming to her. What she'd initially worried it was some kind of physical episode or even a stroke, this was clearly something else entirely. The rumors had circled DC but they'd remained unfounded, even to Amy, until this very moment. He had what looked like a death grip on Donna's sleeve as she leaned close to him and whispered words Amy couldn't decipher.

Eventually his breathing began to steady as Donna coaxed him to breathe deeply in and out, in and out. She calmly counted for him until he was regulating it somewhat on his own. His heart, however was still racing.

After a few more moments he became slightly more conscious of Donna, locking his gaze on her.

"You're okay," she told him, gently brushing some stray curls from his sweat drenched forehead. "You're safe."

She just sat with him for a few more minutes, letting him continue to calm down before she moved at all. "I'm going to get you a glass of water and a cool cloth," she told him softly. "I'll be right back, okay?"

His nod of understanding was barely decipherable, but she was able to get him to let go of her shirt and she stood, hurrying as quickly as possible to gather what she needed and quickly return to him.

She returned to her spot next to him, wiping off his face with a damp washcloth and then resting it on the back of his neck. "Take a sip of water," she instructed, handing the glass, which she'd filled only part way in anticipation of his shaking hands. "And take these," she popped two small pills in his mouth. He swallowed them without bothering to even ask what they were. His blind trust of her judgment not imparted by the chaos currently taking up residence in his mind.

"C'mon," she coaxed him up so that he was off the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed. She grabbed a clean pair of boxers and a tshirt out of his dresser. "Feel up to a shower? I can start the water for you," she offered. He just blinked at her a few times. "Yeah, I didn't think so," she told him, understanding that he was too shaken at the moment. "Well let's at least get a clean tshirt on," she told him, setting the boxers aside and unfolding a white undershirt.

At any other time he'd put up a struggle. He'd tell her not to treat him like a child, but he just didn't have the fight in him at the moment. He knew, deep down, she'd take care of him if he could just follow her instructions.

She stood in front of him, giving his shirt a tug, trying to get him to remove it. He flashed a quick glance to the doorway first, Donna not immediately understanding the issue. His eyes, however, were only off of Donna for a fraction of a second.

Amy remained where she was in the hallway, unable to bring herself to move. She watched the scene in front of her and she knew why he hesitated. He'd never really let his guard completely down around Amy. He always wore some kind of mask around her. And for all of the times that Amy and Josh had slept together she'd never actually seen him shirtless. He'd been incredibly uncomfortable about the scarring on his chest. Amy had always assumed he was that way with everyone.

Donna, still completely unaware of what the issue was, shifted a bit, obscuring Amy's view of Josh.

She loosely fingered the hem of his shirt, giving it another gentle tug. "Josh, come on, take this one off."

He complied, lifting his arms as she divested him of the undershirt, tossing it into the hamper. Donna's hand went immediately to the line bisecting his chest, gently covering it. She'd done copious amounts of internet research after Josh's diagnosis and remembered that often the nightmares felt so real he'd experience pain.

"Does it hurt?" Her voice was a gentle whisper, her thumb leaving a feather light touch over the entry wound from the bullet.

Instead of a verbal response he just leaned forward into her, resting his face against her stomach. Her hands slid gently onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her and let out a deep sob. She bent over and kissed the top of his head softly, lightly rubbing his back. "It's okay," she whispered. "Let it all out." Wrapped up in each other, Josh and Donna were unaware that anyone else existed in the entire world.

Amy, who was sure that she had seen enough, walked quietly to the living room to gather her things and go. It was clear that Josh didn't need her. She sat on Josh's couch, tossing her cell phone into her purse and pulling on her shoes. She realized as she was about to leave that her watch was still on Josh's nightstand. She walked softly back down the hallway, peeking once again through the open door.

Donna sat on top of the comforter, against the headboard, Josh nestled under the sheets next to her, his head resting comfortably on a pillow in her lap. Donna, who had already changed into Josh's tattered old Yale, was lightly stroking his hair as she watched him just lay there, his arm snaked securely around her leg. She stood there for a moment, feeling like somewhat of a voyeur, before deciding that she didn't need her watch badly enough to walk in there. Quietly, she let herself out and closed the door behind her.

Josh rarely fell asleep again after a nightmare but he was exhausted at this particular moment. The panic attack he'd experienced following the nightmare coupled with the drowsy effects of the pills he'd taken had his eyelids becoming heavy.

"I'm sorry," he muttered sheepishly, unable to force himself to make eye contact with her.

Her hand stilled momentarily in his hair. "You never have to apologize, Josh," she whispered, eventually continuing her ministrations as she wound her fingers loosely in a curl.

"Don't leave," he'd asked her, speaking into the darkness as he drifted off.

"I'm right here," she assured him. And that's where she stayed until they woke the next morning.

XxxxxxxxxX

That was a one shot. I think. I'm pretty sure. We'll see.


End file.
